


"Dog Days Are Over"

by BerylSpring



Series: The Lungs Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliases, Banter, Canon Related, Case Fic, Concerned Sam, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Flirting, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hellhounds, Impala, Inspired by Music, Major Original Character(s), Mark of Cain, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Moose Sam, Original Character(s), POV Multiple, Post-Episode: s09e21 King of the Damned, Protective Dean Winchester, Series Spoilers, Slow Burn, Squirrel Dean, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerylSpring/pseuds/BerylSpring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are working a case when they meet another hunter.  The three of them team up to take down a Hellhound that seems to have gone rogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first entry of a series that I’m working on as a writing experiment. I’m using an entire album worth of songs ( _Lungs_ ; Florence and the Machine) to inspire short, episodic fan fiction set in the world of _Supernatural_. The inspiration may come from just the title, specific lyrics, or even just a mood that the song provokes and I’m moving through the album from beginning to end. I’m trying to stay as close to canon as possible, realizing that some liberties have to be made to accommodate original characters and plot lines. Call it “cannon adjacent” fiction. I’m also trying to stick to a four or five act format as if these were episodes inserted between others in the show. I reserve the right to change my mind at any time. This story takes place right after episode 9.21 “King of the Damned”. 
> 
> There will be a romance blossoming, but it will be a slow burn. Warning: possible smut to come in later entries.

**Pine Village, Indiana**

A roaring fire crackled, illuminating the laughing faces of the dozen or so campers waiting for the night’s activities to start. Melanie Adler, a senior counselor at Whispering Pines Summer Camp, was busying herself by scraping the bark off the ends of several long sticks for roasting marshmallows. The sun had already set, and although it had been an extremely humid day for early June, the temperature had dropped to sixty-two degrees. This wasn’t uncommon for Indiana summer nights, but since the camp was enveloped by hundreds of tall, Eastern White Pines the air in the forest now felt damp and brisk. Still, it was comfortable around the warmth of the campfire.

“Hey, are those ready yet? We’re about to start?” another counselor asked.

Melanie handed over the sticks she finished, “I just have a few more. Give these to the kids and I’ll finish ours real quick.”

Melanie knew that the evening was going to start with the usual campfire tales, and every year the other counselors tried to outdo each other with the fright factor. This was not something that she enjoyed. She didn’t want to tell her friends, but it wasn’t just the campers that got scared, she did too! While she enjoyed being at camp, she hated this particular tradition, and ended up having horrible nightmares after each event. When she finally finished stripping the last stick, she reluctantly took her place in the circle.

The first couple of stories were just amped up versions of popular urban legends that she had heard almost every summer since she was ten and she first joined Whispering Pines as a camper. The repetition made the tales much less scary, so she was a bit relieved. Then, Josh, one of the other senior counselors upped the ante. His story featured an evil, stray dog that stalked through the woods looking for his next meal…a human meal! Melanie liked dogs, but it was one of those stories that ended with a jump scare, so her nerves were a bit on end when they packed things up and headed back to the cabins for the night.

Once the campers were settled in, Melanie grabbed her toiletry bag and walked out the rickety, screen door of cabin 8 towards the counselor’s bathrooms. Why they didn’t build it closer to the sleeping cabins was beyond her; it was a real pain walking through the cold, dark woods at night to use the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and pushed her hair back off her face with a cotton headband. Ready for bed, she turned the bathroom light off and headed back out into the woods toward her cabin. It was real quiet; the only sound was the soft whisper of wind through the pines. She thought it was odd that she was the only counselor out using the facilities, but she kept walking. Suddenly a loud snap sounded behind her. Startled, Melanie turned towards the sound only to be greeted by the empty dirt path she came from.

_Calm down, Melanie_ , she thought to herself, _it was probably just a bunny._

She continued walking towards the cabin, but picked up the pace a bit. She could have sworn she heard footsteps padding behind her, but when she turned again there was still nothing.

“It’s just your imagination! God I hate those stupid stories!” she said aloud.

She took a few more steps and then she knew she heard something this time. It sounded like a snarl, like an animal…a dog? The footsteps she heard earlier were right behind her now and she could tell they had to be from something big. Ignoring her instinct to run and remembering her training about what to do when encountering a wild animal in the woods, she slowly turned around to face whatever it was so she could keep an eye on it as she backed away. Still, she saw nothing, but she swore she could hear the low rumble of a growl directly in front of her, and for a second she thought she saw its breath forming in the cool air. Losing her composure she whimpered and turned to run.

In cabin 8, the sleeping campers were awoken by a penetrating scream followed by a long, hair-raising howl.

 

*****

 

Sam Winchester sipped his coffee as he stared at the glowing screen in front of him. It was early morning, and he just couldn’t sleep. He was worried about his brother. That mark on his arm was changing him. Every time he tried to close his eyes he could see the stone cold look on Dean’s face as he killed Abaddon, and the uncontrolled rage that coursed through him as he kept stabbing her with the First Blade, long after she was dead. It was the same frenzied state that Sam had to talk him down from when he first killed with it, and that fire was being fueled by the mark.

After realizing he wasn’t getting any shut eye, he had quietly moved down the dormitory corridor of the Men of Letters bunker to the library, stopping to peek in on Dean who was quietly snoring in his room. After thumbing through dozens of books without any solid information on the Mark of Cain, Sam had pulled out his trusty laptop to see what he could find on the internet. Before he knew it, the sun was up, and he heard the echo of Dean’s door slamming shut. His brother was awake.

“Morning, Sammy,” Dean announced as he entered the library in his grey t-shirt, black Adidas track pants, and his sock covered feet.

Sam gave him a cursory, “Hey,” as he closed his laptop. He didn’t want to start anything with his brother this early in the morning, and anytime he even tried to discuss the mark with him they would get into a battle of wills.

Dean sat across from Sam and stretched his arms up over his head with a yawn, “I slept great last night! You look like shit though!”

“Thanks,” Sam responded, dryly.

“Whoa, Sammy, it’s too early for the bitch face,” Dean joked, which irritated Sam even more. “You know what we need? We need to get out, get on a case.”

“I thought we agreed to lay low for a bit,” Sam said, “besides, don’t we have enough on our plate already? Between Metatron and the mark…”

“Don’t worry, Sammy, I already got us one last night,” Dean cut his brother off, not wanting to get into it again. “Camp counselor in Indiana died from an animal attack, no tracks or fur or anything else left behind. I’m betting on a werewolf.”

Sam began to protest, but Dean cut him off again, “Alright then, let’s get dressed and hit the road.”

A few minutes later the brothers were cruising down U.S. 36 East in the Impala. Dean’s fingers were drumming along to Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks” on the steering wheel while Sam sat in the passenger seat reluctantly looking up facts on the case in Pine Village. Another animal attack popped up on the wire as they were driving. It was the same as the last; no tracks or evidence of any kind. This time it was a male in his forties, fishing by the creek.

Before they pulled into town, they stopped to change into their FBI suits and fished out their fake IDs. Agents Walsh and Henley pulled up to the scene at Big Pine Creek and the Impala rumbled to a halt. Her doors let out a metallic groan as the boys shut them and walked towards the police tape flashing their badges. The deputy on the scene led them to the body, which was covered by a blood-soaked sheet.

“Mind if we take a look?” Dean asked.

The deputy gave them an affirmative nod, so Dean bent down and pulled the corner of the sheet back to reveal the mess underneath. Sam grimaced at the sight.

“Do you have any idea of what did it?” he asked the deputy.

“Well, we’re figuring a bear or maybe a mountain lion. It had to be something strong to do that.”

“And the girl from the summer camp,” Dean inquired, “was she the same way?”

“Yep. It was a right, nasty sight. She’s down at the morgue if you want to take a look at what’s left.”

Sam nodded grimly, “Thanks deputy.”

As the brothers walked out of earshot of the officers, they looked at each other knowingly. The markings on the body, the way it was torn to shreds, it could only be one thing.

“Hellhound,” they both said in unison.


	2. Chapter 2

After finishing up at the morgue, Sam and Dean decided to talk to some of the people who knew the victims to try and glean any information about why they might have summoned a crossroads demon. The two weren’t connected in any way, and it was strange to have two souls collected by Hellhounds in the same town within 24 hours of each other. The girl, Melanie Adler was a normal teenager. She would’ve had to make a deal when she was six for her debt to come due now, and Joe Baker, the fisherman, had a loving wife and three children waiting for him at home. Nothing was out of the ordinary in either case. Something fishy was going on.

Pine Village was such a small town that they had to drive twenty minutes north-east to find a motel. Dean put the key into the lock for room 15 at the El Monte Inn. The room was dingy, with puke green cinderblock walls and dark wood trim around the doors and windows. The mattresses were covered in a crazy green and gold floral patterned spread. The yellowed linoleum floor tiles were cracked and peeling and the carpet near the beds was so badly stained they couldn’t figure out what color it was originally supposed to be. At least it had a kitchenette, even though it looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned in years. It didn’t bother the boys; they were used to digs like this. It’s just life on the road.

Once they got settled in and changed, Sam left to get take out and Dean stayed behind to put a call into Crowley. The King of Hell and former King of the Crossroads ought to know something about his pets. After a few rings, he picked up.

“Squirrel! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What’s going on with your Hellhounds?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Crowley responded.

“Sam and I are working a case. We’ve got two victims that have been torn to shreds in Indiana. Since I’ve been up close and personal with one before; I’d say I’m kind of an expert on the aftermath of your devil dogs.”

Crowley acted confused, “What do delicious chocolate treats have to do with my babies?”

“Cut the crap, Crowley,” Dean barked, “What kind of rotten deals are your minions making?”

Crowley let out an audible sigh, “None. It’s not my doing. I look over all the contracts myself and I don’t have any crossroad deals in Bumble-What, Indiana.”

“Well it sure as hell looks like you’ve got a rogue puppy on your hands,” Dean insisted.

“Sorry, Dean, seems like you’re barking up the wrong tree. Give my worst to Moose for me, will you?”

With that, Crowley hung up.

Sam returned shortly after with a greasy paper bag containing their dinner. He tossed his brother a double-bacon cheeseburger and pulled out a grilled chicken sandwich for himself. It wasn’t exactly healthy, it was still fast food, but at least it wasn’t fried in grease. He pulled out a bag of onion rings for Dean as well, and placed them on the table.

“What did Crowley have to say?” he asked.

Dean shook his head, “He says it’s not a Hellhound.”

“Do we believe him?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said, “let’s head over to that summer camp after we eat and see if we can find something the police missed.”

When they finished their meals, the boys drove over to Whispering Pines Summer Camp to look around. The campers were sent home after the incident and the camp was closed until further notice; the main gate was locked up tight. They couldn’t drive in, so they pulled Baby to the side of the road and parked her before heading in on foot.

The camp office was about half a mile down the dirt road and was the first light other than their flashlights that they had to guide them. There was a map of the grounds lit up dimly on the outside of the building. From what they could tell, the path between Cabin 8 and the staff bathrooms where they found the poor girl was through the woods to their right. With caution they headed down the main path to their destination. Dean had his sawed-off loaded with salt rounds and Sam was carrying Ruby’s knife and both were wearing those nifty holy fire glasses that allows them to see Hellhounds.

The path seemed to get darker the further into the woods they went and Dean asked aloud if it would’ve killed them to put some lights along the way. When they finally reached the bathroom, they started to slow down and look carefully for anything that could determine what they were dealing with. As they walked along they both noticed rustling in the brush nearby. Silently, Dean signaled to Sam to follow him into the line of trees on the left where the sound was coming from. As they got closer to it, the rustling seemed more frantic, like something was running at them full speed. Dean took aim and fired when a shadow emerged from behind a tree. The salt round exploded into the figure which let out a high pitched yelp. The brothers waited a few seconds to be sure it was down before moving in to get a better look. Sam went ahead to identify it, but when he reached the figure he called for his brother.

“Dean! She’s human!” he shouted frantically.


	3. Chapter 3

Riley Stone had blacked out when the blast hit her in the rib cage. The pain was too intense and her brain shut itself down so it didn’t have to deal with it. Now she was sitting on a desk in the camp’s infirmary while Sam Winchester was wrapping an Ace bandage around her torso to hold an ice pack in place over her contusion. She winced whenever he put pressure on her ribs. The one that shot her, Dean, was leaning up against a large cabinet on the other side of the room, staring. She stared back at him trying to size him up. He was muscular and rugged looking, definitely a couple days shy of a razor, and he had a certain… darkness to him. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. His eyes were a pretty hazel color, but the light was hitting them in a way that made them look emerald green; piercing.

“Alright, all done,” Sam said as he finished bandaging her up.

Riley pulled her black tee-shirt back down over her exposed skin and stood up gingerly. She was going to be sore for a few days, the downside of being shot with rock salt rounds. On the plus side though, at least it wasn’t a real bullet; that would’ve been much worse.

Dean, eager to find out what her deal was, took the opportunity to interrogate her.

“What they hell were you doing out here in the dark?”

She smirked at him condescendingly, “The same thing as you, genius. I’m trying to find out what attacked that girl.”

“You’re a hunter?” Sam asked.

Riley smiled and shrugged as if she were trying to say, “Duh!”

Sam asked if she had found anything useful before they arrived and she admitted that she hadn’t. There just weren’t any clues to be found. Her conclusion was the same as theirs; it had to be a Hellhound. After deciding it was best to come back tomorrow to investigate some more, Riley followed the brothers to their car. Hers was back in town as she had walked the few miles to the camp, and with her side throbbing she didn’t want to walk all the way back. They drove her into town and stopped at a local bar for a few beers, where she filled them in briefly on her history.

Her father died about five years ago when she was 24 years old and the circumstances surrounding his death left her with a lot of unanswered questions. The deeper she dug into it the more impossible the answers seemed. Turned out her father was a hunter, someone who tracks and kills ghosts and demons. As incredible as it sounded, the evidence was too overwhelming and she later discovered that her father wasn’t the only one, not the only hunter and not the only hunter that died around that time. About two dozen hunters had bit it within the same week as her dad. Apparently they were part of some seal that had to be broken to start the Apocalypse.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other knowingly.

“Oh, yeah, I know who you guys are. The famous Winchesters who jump started Armageddon,” she smiled, “don’t worry, I don’t blame you anymore. From what I heard it was out of your control.”

“It was,” Sam said, trying to convince her just in case.

“Those demons, huh? Always trying to jerk your chain.”

“Yeah well the Angels aren’t any better,” Dean added.

Riley locked eyes with the older Winchester as she took the last swig of her beer. Her head was a little fuzzy from the few she had before and for a moment she entertained the idea of getting him alone somewhere. _I bet he could scratch and itch or two_ , she thought, but quickly dismissed the notion. She was too banged up for that anyway. Besides, the asshole shot her!

She thanked them for the beers and decided to take off. It was getting late and she needed some sleep before meeting back up with them the next day to sort out what they were going to do with the town’s demon mutt problem.

The boys said goodnight and watched her go. Sam thought she seemed nice enough and was happy to have another hunter’s help with this bizarre case. Dean, on the other hand, wasn’t sure they needed a rookie like her getting in the way. Judging by the poor decision she made tonight that led to her getting shot, she was way too inexperienced to tango with a Hellhound. He didn’t want her blood on his hands if things went south.

After finishing their drinks, Sam and Dean drove Baby back to the motel. Sam went straight into their room while Dean went around the corner to get a couple of Cokes from the vending machine. He plunked a few quarters into the machine and pressed the button only to be greeted with a “Sold Out” message flashing above the key pad. “Great,” he said aloud before making another selection. The machine buzzed and a can of Sprite tumbled out of the dispenser. As Dean bent down to grab it, he heard a low growl behind him.

Straightening up quickly, he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, and slowly turned his head toward the sound. Just as he suspected, there was nothing to be seen. He did his best to judge the distance between himself and the invisible creature and sent a swift kick in its direction. His boot made impact and he heard a short screech as he turned to run.

Sam’s head shot up from his laptop when he heard barking coming from outside the motel. He raced to the door just in time to let his brother in, who promptly shut it behind him.

“Salt!” Dean commanded, as he pushed all his weight against the door that was now being thrashed by the invisible animal.

Sam complied, digging through his bag to retrieve it. He pulled it out and ran a line across the threshold of the door and all along the front window. The noise from the attack ceased. To be safe, Dean grabbed the salt from Sammy and ran into the bathroom, lining the windowsill in there as well.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“The thing just attacked me,” Dean replied, a look of surprise on his face, “Definitely not a Hellhound’s normal M.O.”

“That’s because it isn’t just any Hellhound,” a familiar voice came from the dark corner of the room. Sam and Dean turned towards it as Crowley stepped out of the shadows, “Hello, boys! Miss me?”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean’s face hardened before he spit out, “What the hell is it?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, “I guess we’re skipping the pleasantries then?”

His question was met with a steely glare from both the Winchesters. The two of them could be so exasperating sometimes. “It’s a Cerberus,” he conceded.

“A Cerberus? As in the three-headed dog from Greek Mythology?” Sam challenged.

“As in, the big daddy Hellhound,” Crowley retorted, “leader of the pack.”

“Alright,” Dean said incredulously, “well what the hell is it doing here?”

Crowley shrugged, like it was no big deal, “Apparently it got off its leash.”

“You think,” Dean responded, the sarcasm dripping thickly off his tongue.

Sam piped up, “How do we get rid of it?”

“Honestly, do I have to do all the thinking around here? Get it back on its leash!”

“And how to you suggest we do that?” Dean asked.

“I’ve got faith in you Squirrel. You and Moose will figure it out. Sorry, gotta run. Kingly duties and all,” before they could blink, Crowley was gone.

Dean shook his fists in the air, “Son of a bitch!”

“I’ll call Riley,” Sam announced, as he dialed the number she gave him earlier.

 

*****

 

After only getting in an hour of sleep, Riley headed over to the Winchester’s motel. Sam had filled her in on what they were dealing with, and now they had to figure out how to kill it or get rid of it. When she arrived, she knocked twice on the door before walking into their room, Dean was sitting on one of the beds cleaning his guns and Sam was concentrating his efforts on research. She nodded a hello to Dean who returned the favor, and she took the seat opposite his brother at the table and pulled out her own laptop. Both she and Sam spent a few hours looking into Greek Mythology and how to kill the Cerberus, but they could only find a way to trap it.

“I’ve looked through all the lore,” Sam said, “and the only thing I can find is an Ovid reference that says it can be enslaved by chains of Adamant.”

Dean looked up, “Great, where do we get those?”

“Hold on,” Riley said, “it says here that Adamant isn’t a substance, it’s just any hardened material. Regular chains ought to do.”

Sam smiled and looked from Riley to Dean, “Well we can do one better. We’ve got the devil’s trap cuffs. If we can manage to get some chains around it, secure it with the cuffs, it should be incapacitated.”

“And we’ve got the x-ray Hellhound glasses, so we just need to locate the thing and we should be good,” Dean added, satisfied with his plan.

“Um…any idea on how we do that? We don’t even know why it shows up where it does,” Riley queried, “it just seems to be killing indiscriminately.”

Dean nodded, “It got my scent earlier; it should come to me.”

With the plan settled they decided to lure it into the woods at Whispering Pines again so that there weren’t any civilians getting caught in the crossfire. The three of them climbed into the Impala and headed out before dawn. Riley sat in the back seat looking out the window until she got the sensation that she had eyes on her. She turned to look to the front and saw Dean’s gaze in the rear view mirror. His eyes were hard to read, he could very well be looking at her with hatred or even lust. Whatever it was, it showed a hint of that darkness that she noticed earlier. The corner of her mouth turned up in a slight smile and he finally turned his attention back to the road.

Dean focused on the blacktop in his headlights. He still wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to bring Riley along with them, but he couldn’t deny the fact that she was nice to look at. Her raven-colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail, drawing attention to her perfectly oval face. When she looked at him with her pretty, baby-blues they betrayed an innocence inside that he wanted to protect. Although he wasn’t much older than her, he was filled with a world-weary cynicism from a lifetime of blood, and loss, and hell even death. He’d taken a trip downstairs and a few up in his lifetime, and wouldn’t wish this kind of life on anyone, let alone a pretty young thing like her. She should be off having fun, getting engaged, starting a family, not getting shot with salt rounds by another hunter.

“How’s your ribs?” he asked at the thought.

Their eyes met in the rearview again, “Sore, but I’ll manage.”

“Maybe you should sit this one out.”

“Like hell,” she retorted, “I was just fine working this case on my own until you two showed up. I can handle it!”

Dean couldn’t help himself, he was going to try everything he could to convince her, “I just don’t want you slowing us down and getting one of us hurt.”

“I can hold my own,” she spat back.

Sam gave his brother a halting look, “Dean!”

The eldest Winchester glanced back at her one more time before giving up the argument. This time though Riley saw a softer expression that she hadn’t seen from him before. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but she quickly forgot about it as they pulled up to the campground.

The sun was just hugging the horizon, but it hadn’t penetrated through the thicket of trees lining the dirt pathways in front of them. With flashlights in hand the trio made their way back to where the original attack was. Sam and Riley had the Hellhound glasses on and they each split off into the shallows of the woods, leaving Dean out in the open on the path.

Dean put his thumb and middle finger at the corners of his mouth and whistled loudly, “C’mon you mangy dog. Here I am! Come get me!”

The air was thick with tension as only silence greeted him. Sam held tightly to the chains and cuffs while Riley readied herself to spring into action with Sam’s demon-killing knife. A few minutes passed when they all heard it coming up the path. Sam and Riley zeroed in on it, seeing its three gigantic heads snarling and drooling at the sight of Dean. It was bigger than any Hellhound Sam had ever encountered.

Even though Dean couldn’t see it, he could hear the thump of its feet getting closer and closer, and he strengthened his stance, ready to wrestle it off if need be. Sam and Riley watched as it moved ever closer, not wanting to jump the gun and scare it off. They needed to catch it by surprise. Just as it reached the point where Dean could smell its putrid breath, Sam let out the signal for him and Riley to attack.

The Cerberus turned its head towards Sam and growled, and Riley lunged at it from the other side taking advantage of the distraction. But the dog was quick and readjusted its position in time to ram one of its massive heads into her bruised torso. She screamed out in pain, dropping the knife at her feet before falling to the ground. Dean punched at the air in front of him, hoping to connect, trying to distract it from Riley’s prone form as Sam came up from behind it and grabbed at its colossal legs. The Cerberus, distracted from the easy prey, snarled in his direction and gave a swift kick of its back leg, hitting Sam square in the jaw, knocking him backwards and unconscious. Dean was trying to help Riley up when she saw the Cerberus lunge in their direction.


	5. Chapter 5

“Dean!” she cried out as the monster slammed into him, sending him flying into the trees behind him. Once again the creature was upon her, long strings of drool hanging from its jowls just inches above her face. Its eyes flashed with fire as it snorted and bared its sharp teeth, all three sets of them. She was sure she was done for. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the inevitable.

Suddenly, Dean was back on his feet and he rushed at the beast hoping to knock it off of her. He took a flying leap at the area above her body, making impact. Riley’s eyes flew open at the sound and she watched as Dean and the Cerberus rolled along the path, the dog’s teeth scraping the surface of his left arm as it tried to bite at his flesh.

“Dean!” Riley called again as she summoned all her strength to toss her glasses his way.

Managing to tear himself from the thrashing demon dog, Dean rolled at them. He grabbed them with an outstretched hand and put them on his face. His eyes widened as he took in the massive form that was heading straight for him. Instinctually, Dean reached around to the waistline at the back of his jeans and pulled out a gnarled looking blade that Riley had never seen before. It almost looked like it was made of bone and teeth.

Sam regained consciousness and sat up in time to see his brother jam the First Blade into the Cerberus’s stomach, a flood of thick, black blood spilling out as Dean pushed it off of him and onto the ground. Dean rolled over and tore the blade from its stomach only to plunge it back into the beast, this time at its throat. The Cerberus whimpered before it finally succumbed. Dean wiped blood from his face as he kneeled over the dead dog.

Sam made his way over to Riley and helped her to her feet. They both looked at Dean. His focus still on the Cerberus, his face twisted with anger and madness. With a deep, guttural growl he began slashing at the carcass in front of him in a frenzy, spraying more blood around.

Riley watched as Sam ran to his side, trying to calm him. The darkness she saw in him earlier was rearing its ugly head.

 

*****

 

The boys were packing up their things at the El Monte Inn while Riley waited outside. The deed was done, the case was closed, and it was time for them to go their separate ways. Sam dropped his bag into the backseat of the Impala and told her he would be right back. He had to go to the office and check out. Dean came out shortly afterwards, freshly showered, with his duffle slung over his shoulder. The left sleeve of his white and black plaid flannel was rolled up, exposing his forearm, showing the puckered, red cut left there by the Cerberus’s teeth.

“How’s your arm?” Riley asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“It’s fine,” he responded, eyeing her side, “How ‘bout that bruise of yours? That mutt really knocked you down hard.”

She smiled back at him, “I’ll live.”

“Dean?” Riley began before stopping herself. She wanted to ask about that blade he used and the way he acted in the woods, but decided against it.

He looked at her, waiting for her question, “What?”

She shook her head, “Nevermind. Not important.”

Riley watched as Dean placed his bag in the trunk. It seemed like he was being careful not to make eye contact with her. The way he went berserk on that hound earlier scared her. There was something inside him that was unstable, and she knew she would be better off not getting involved with the Winchesters because of it. But she also found herself drawn to him. The danger in his eyes burned bright like a flame, and she was pulled to it like a moth.

Sam walked back up and broke her from her reverie, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, slamming the trunk shut.

“Thanks for your help, Riley!” Sam said appreciatively. She smiled and thanked him as well before he said his goodbyes and climbed into the Impala.

“Bye, Dean,” she said reluctantly.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, “Take care of yourself, Riley. You call us if you ever get into any trouble out there, okay?”

Riley nodded and the two of them locked eyes again for a moment, and then Dean nodded his goodbye and walked around to the other side of the Impala, climbing into the driver’s seat, and closing the door behind him. He watched as she climbed into her own car and started it, before letting her pull out in front of him. At the light up the street she turned left and headed east, honking one final goodbye as he turned in the opposite direction.

As he watched her car drive away from them in the rearview mirror, a part of him hoped that she would leave hunting behind, and go live some normal, happy life. The other part of him hoped that he would see her again.

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer: I wanted to note that this story was published in December of 2015 and that the March 9th, 2017 episode of Supernatural entitled "Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell", which had a similar plot line, were merely a coincidence. Unless...writer Davy Perez read my fanfic and decided to use the idea. I'm not mad Davy; not at all ;) Seriously though, it was eerily similar, campground instead of summer camp, big bad mother rogue hellhound instead of big bad rogue mother hellhound Cerberus, calling Crowley to help with his rouge pup...I'm just saying! If by small, and by small I mean minuscule, chance that Davy Perez did rip off my idea, I'm just super happy to see a similar version of my story on my favorite show of all time! So, no hard feelings.


End file.
